


Clint Barton's Incredibly Not So Incredible Vlog

by jonessjughead



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Tower, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, I'm Sorry, Social Media, i just really love clint barton, idk - Freeform, possible bucky later, this is dumb but i love it, vlogging hawkeye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonessjughead/pseuds/jonessjughead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Clint starts a stupid vlog, with his stupid Avenger friends as stupidly awesome guest stars. He likes to complain and vlogs are great for complaining. Just like they're great for makeup challenges, ice bucket challenges... and pizza rolls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Tired But I Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as something stupid and fun and then I ended up having like eight parts. The chapters are short (sorry). Enjoy, though!

The camera jiggles and comes to focus on an excessive amount of puffed up blankets and pillows. There’s muttering, a quiet ‘fuck’, and then Clint’s face comes into view next, and he yawns, looking bleary eyed and also- like always- a little bit smug. “‘Sup… viewers. If I have any…. Can’t sleep. So, uh, yeah.” his hair is spiked up every which way, and he only messes it further by running a hand through it, scratching the back of his head and yawning again. “Okay… m’bored, m’sorry. Don’t have much to do… It’s like, midnight or something.” there was a flicker of lights that jerked Clint's attention to the ceiling, blinking a few times. "Huh? Oh. According to Jarvis, it's two thirty-seven. In the morning. Thanks for the hologram thing. That's cool." He pointed to the ceiling. "Jarvis is pretty cool. There's probably like four YouTube videos with him. He's rad. Real MVP. You're the AI, Jarvis."

"Thank you, sir." came the answer, while the red of hologram clock numbers shifted to white lettering. Clint scanned, grinned. "Welcome, buddy. See, since he can't sign, and I don't have aids in, he's pretty good with this little system worked out. It's nice." he gave a thumbs up. "Fuck, I'm tired..." he muttered, laying his head back on the pillow, shifting a little, perfectly relaxed. "God, I probably have about forty chins right now. Not the ideal selfie angle, you know?"

He blinked, silent, before stretching with probably the most sexual noise to ever burst forth from a human. “Okay, so it’s a little after midnight…” he made a face. “What the fuck do people even do with vlogs? Do you even want to see this shit? I mean, look, I got like… I’m all sleepy and my hair isn’t even… I can’t even talk about it right now, it’s getting long, look, I can-” he ran his fingers through it, showing how long it was. “Look, look it’s long, I gotta cut it soon…” he paused again. “What do people do with vlogs except talk? I’m not… talking isn't my favorite pastime.” he sat up, letting the blankets fall into the nest. “Like, what do I call people? Hawkstars? Hawklings? That’s a thing, right, people call their viewers something?” he made a face. “It’s kinda dumb, just talking to a camera and being all ‘oh maybe someone will notice me’. Nah.” he sighed. “This is dumb. Just forget this exists. I’m tired, I’m sleep deprived. Just bury this video under your viewing history. Porn, dogs startled by their own bark, whatever. Just let it die.”

The video is short, but it still goes viral. Thousands of Hawkeye fans wriggle out of every little crack and crevice. Sleepy Hawkeye is cute, apparently. Whatever. He just throws up a middle finger as he sucks down a fourth cup of coffee while Tony flutters animatedly around him, jacked up on no sleep and a steady diet of super sugared coffee. “Do you know how many people are gonna love the whole ‘Avengers go social media’ thing? They’ll go nuts. You should get a Vine. We should get an Avengers Vine. That would be awesome. Are you on Instagram?”

“Tony it’s like seven in the morning _shut the fuck up_.”

“Rude.”


	2. I DROPPED MY GODDAMN PIZZA ROLLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said I have about eight or nine of these already written up (oops)

The camera focuses on Clint laying on the floor. Just laying there, facedown, saying and doing nothing. “What happened, Legolas?” Tony asks from behind the camera, and you can just hear the smirk in his voice. Clint lets out a groan of agony. “What was that?” Finally he pulls his face off of the floor. “I dropped my fucking pizza rolls again.” Tony snickers a little. “Again? How did you do it again? What happened that you dropped them again?” Clint’s eyes narrow and he lets his face drop back onto the floor. “I didn’t wait for them to cool off and it fuckin’ burnt me I lost my fucking pizza rolls _Stark this isn’t a laughing matter they’re gone_.” Tony just keeps on laughing, and Clint groans again, trying not to just fucking slit his throat with a kitchen knife over his pizza rolls. “They were _pepperoni_.” he whines, writhing around on the floor. Tony pans over to the oven, where what seems to be a whole bag of pizza rolls lay scattered on the floor.

"By the way, I am so not cleaning this up. Nor did I condone the cooking of an entire bag of pizza rolls. I also didn't condone the inability to judge that things are hot when they come out of the oven. Which lead to the dropping. You should've seen him about ten minutes ago. For about five minutes he sat on the floor and just stared at them. He also cried." Clint whines into the floor again. "Shut uuuup..." 

“Coulda used an oven mitt, Feathers.” he answered logically. “ _ **I didn’t think it would be hot**_!” he almost screams into the floor. “Could just order a pizza.” he suggests, turning the camera back on Clint, who sits up and looks very much like he would either cry or throw a tantrum over these lost pizza rolls. He absolutely glowered at Tony, scowling. “It’s not the fucking same pizza rolls are not the fucking same as oh my fucking- why would you _even_ do that why _even_ you get the fuck out of my face if the pizza is _not_ in roll form it is _not a fucking pizza roll_!” Tantrum it was. Tony snickers again, sets the camera on the nearest counter, and rummages around in the very back of the freezer, tossing a bag of pizza rolls at Clint. 

“Look in the back next time. Thor doesn’t rummage around past the vegetables, bird for brains.” 

Clint’s pizza roll agony gets a little blowback. A few people think he’s faking, but Tony makes sure to go out of his way to mention that Clint is dead serious about his passion for pizza rolls. Clint mostly posts pictures of his new pizza rolls, including a selfie that makes him look like an excited little boy, about to eat his fucking pizza rolls. His Instagram is filled with stupid selfies, but this one has about a thousand comments ranging from ‘adorable asshole’ to ‘is he even real’ to 'we should start sending him pizza rolls'. 

They actually do. He gets at least three deliveries a day for a month from the local supermarket. He isn't sure where they're all coming from but apparently people are just calling in and demanding he be sent pizza rolls. They're free, so it's cool. 

Clint just really likes pizza rolls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to drop me a suggestion, and thanks for reading!


	3. Hawkeye Takes the Ice Bucket Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says.

Clint sighed, the camera jiggling a little as he adjusted it on the tripod. He took a few steps back, dressed only in boxers, a t shirt and a frown. “Okay, fuckin…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his eyes a little. “I was nominated for the ALS ice bucket challenge. By Phil, Bruce Banner- but he doesn’t count because he just donated, right?- uh, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark- four times- and Natasha Romanoff- six times. I just wanna say fuck you all. But I’m not a pussy. I’ll do it. Anyway. I’m gonna donate to the ALS… thing, the foundation. I am. I’m gonna do it right now, actually, decide how much.” he stepped out of frame and returned with a ball cap. “This has some papers in it, one through ten, I think. Sorry. I’m fuckin’.... I’m tired. It’s bedtime. Hawk’s sleepy, sorry.” he mumbled, rummaging through the cap with closed eyes. He brought out a slip of paper and held it out to the camera before looking at it. “Nine. Okay. So, I’m gonna donate nine thousand dollars for ALS, because we get paid well, so just tossing in nine hundred dollars would feel like a dick move. Y'know?” he showed his phone, and went through the actual process of donation on camera. "Also, guys, this is for ALS, I've said it at least four times by now, but what I haven't said was please donate. Like, you don't have to go full Stark. If you just want to donate five dollars or something, it's still better than nothing. And if you can't afford to donate, hey, I've been there. No judging."

“And I’m also gonna take the challenge. Can’t be that bad.” he set the cap aside, thinking a moment. “I nominate… Fury, Hill, Barne, Jace, and Thor. You know who you are. You got twenty four hours. Let’s fuckin’ do this.” He steps forward, turns the camera around to reveal Stark’s pool. Huge chunks of ice are floating in it and you can see the cold. Clint scales the diving board, clinging to it and peering at the water. Then he stands and shakes his limbs out, biting his lip and looking quite uncertain. “Okay. Okay. This is for ALS, and a good cause and shit. Twenty four hours, guys. And to everyone who nominated me-” he raised his hands, showing off both middle fingers for the camera before he whirled around and back flipped into the pool.

He emerged with a loud gasp, screeching audibly as he tried to force himself to the edge of the pool, dragging himself out while positively screaming profanities. His shirt was clinging to him while he flopped face down beside the pool, shaking violently. “F-Fuck this f-f-fuckin’ ch-chall-enge.” he chattered out, grabbing for towels or blankets or something. “S-Stark where’d you f-f-fuckin’ p-put ‘em c-come o- _no_!” he let out a shout as Tony raced on screen, tipping a bucket of ice water on him with a grin. “That’s for complaining about my vent space.” he said before tossing a large, fluffy towel on the shivering Clint, who disappeared beneath it in a tiny, shivering ball, teeth chattering. Tony swaggered his way over to the camera with the empty bucket, grinning. “Feathers isn’t too fond of the cold.” he said before shutting the camera off.

Clint posts a selfie from the shower in clinging t shirt and boxers, looking miserable and grateful for warmth about five minutes after posting the video. It’s captioned: _“Stark is an asshole and I’m cold. #icebucketchallenge #asl #whatsahashtag #partylikeahawkstar”_ It goes viral immediately, and everyone ransacks the internet trying to find the video.

The video goes viral about ten minutes later. Most of the comments involve squealing over the way his shirt clings to him or how cute he is when he’s sleepy. Pictures of his soaked shirt clinging to him and gifs of a part where he sleepily rubs his eyes sweep across the internet in a whirlwind fangirl moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. GIRLFRIEND DOES MY MAKEUP!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat totally isn't his girlfriend. Not that he wouldn't go there. But still, she's the ultimate choice over the others. Mostly because she does her own makeup often. Even though she would totally fuck up Clint's for the hell of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have like five of these left to upload. May just switch to one a day oops

Clint hops into his hammock with the camera in hand. This is how his vlogs go now. The beginning is always rocky, jostling the camera about. At least, that’s how it’s been.

“Okay, so y’all are really into this whole vlogging thing. I didn’t realize people actually gave a shit about me doing shit. Or not doing shit. Whatever. It happens sometimes, and if you fuckers keep sending us pizza rolls Stark’s gonna lose his goddamn mind. So keep ‘em coming.” He receives a swat on the shoulder and doesn’t even flinch. “So, basically, today I’m gonna let Nat do my makeup. Let’s get this clear: she’s not actually my girlfriend. Hawkeye and Black Widow aren’t dating. Not that I wouldn’t. Trust me, I would. I would so go there. But nah. Anyway, I thought girlfriend was probably better than anything else I coulda come up with. Pretty sure kids watch this, so…” he shrugged.

“Okay. So yeah, Nat’s gonna make me pretty. Well, I’m already pretty. She’s gonna make me gorgeous. Or I could do my own makeup. It’s simple. Lashes, lips, brows. Frame the face. Five minutes.” Natasha leaned into the frame. Baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, her I Don’t Give a Shit outfit. It was comfy, she liked it, and no one said shit about it. Not that they would have had room to talk anyway. Pretty much _no one_ was fully dressed in the tower. It was great. So many pairs of sweatpants. The _asses_.

Considering he was quite a bit more tan than her, the foundation and powder made him look antiqued, and he squirmed a little. Really, the foundation and powder was unnecessary, but then again it was totally necessary. “M’nose tickles. I gotta sneeze.” he muttered. She hushed him, smirking like she’d just won the lottery. Or whooped Steve's ass at Mario Kart. Seriously, he got _competitive_. It was actually a little unsettling.

He frowned at the eyeshadow palette, making a face. There were so many colors to choose from. He could go subtle and cute or full on rainbow road. “I don’t know… Gold would look ni- oh hell yes, gimme the purple.” he said immediately, pointing. “Gimme the purple, Nat, c’mon, I want the purple one. Hell yes.” he fidgeted a little before settling. "Do I look gorgeous now?" he asked. Natasha almost rolled her eyes.

"Give me the definition of gorgeous and I'll see if you can manage to fit the criteria." she answered.

"Rude." came his response.Until she tried to curl his eyelashes. “You don’t even do that do you! Can’t those cut off your eyelashes?” he asked, making a face. “I can’t be lashless, Nat, I’m fucking beautiful.” she hushed him with a swift punch in the thigh, just hard enough to make him whine a little, curling his lashes despite his protests.

“If you don’t struggle they won’t come off.” she said easily. Clint went still.

He looked at the camera, then into the mirror Natasha had given him. Pale face, of course, but still. Purple eyeshadow and hella fucking rad red lipstick. “Would you fuck me?” he asked, his best impression of Silence of the Lambs. “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “You’d fuck you hard regardless.”

Everyone’s new favorite picture is Hawkeye with makeup and everyone finds themselves incapable of listening to the words straight from Clint’s mouth that he and Nat are not dating.

That doesn’t stop him from reading a few good stories.

Damn these writers are good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter will probably get a little interactive at the end, even though it's probably the shortest. I hate that these are so short, but what can you do ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Special Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint gives viewers a chance to make him tell all

Clint squirmed a little in his blanket nest, getting comfortable. He grinned for all of about two seconds. “Sup. So, this isn’t really like, an actual update or anything. But I decided how about I answer questions and shit. So send me whatever you want me to talk about. Or videos, or whatever. Just give me something to do. Literally, anything. I’m bored and I’m not allowed to touch the coffeemaker anymore.” he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Stark is such a whiny baby. Oh, Barton, only coffee goes in the coffee maker. Oh, Barton, why the fuck would you try to make ramen in there. Oh, Barton, the flavored powder is supposed to go in the pot. Oh, Barton, it's not supposed to smoke like that." he mimicked, rolling his eyes again. “But yeah, I’ve been getting decent views and stuff. Apparently I’m already seen as famous or whatever. At least, maybe. I mean, I can’t go out for some pizza without a bunch of papps just fucking launching cameras up my asshole. But hey, they gotta feed the fam somehow, right? And by fam I mean I have people to be looking out for. May not be blood, but they count.” For a moment he frowned, thinking. “So, the makeup video is really popular, apparently. I’m not… That was a bitch to get off. But I fuckin’ rocked that purple shadow. Do not even attempt to convince me otherwise. I kind of want to do something like that again. It was nice. And I looked amazing, by the way. Ex carnie, ex makeup artist, I've had dozens of odd jobs. Okay, I don’t know how long this is. It’s probably short. Whatever. I gotta go before Stark comes looking for his coffeemaker. He, uh.. It exploded. I tried to make ramen again and I ruined everything.” he sighed, leaned forward, and shut the camera off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so short I'm so sorry! Anyway, this is where it can get kind of interactive. If I get 'questions' in the comments, I can certainly guarantee they go in the chapter. I'm not hoping for a lot, here, so they'll probably all end up in there. If I don't get any questions, I can certainly upload my generic Q&A chapter.


	6. Hawkeye Q&A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wait is over: Hawkeye answers fans questions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these questions I got in comments from the last chapter, some of them I got in my inbox on tumblr and a couple of them are just generic add-ins ("Are you and Natasha dating?" i wish..)

Clint smirked, sitting indian style in his blanket nest. “Okay, so y’all need to stop. I got questions out the asshole here. I feel like it needs to be a weekly thing.” He was quiet a moment, shifting to get comfortable. “This position is called the Lotus, by the way. Didn't know that. Bruce is teaching me yoga. I know most of it, just not the names. But yeah. Let’s just get it started, I guess. Stark got it all set up, look.” he tipped the camera to show the holographic computer screen. “Won’t show repeats of questions, which is good, which is probably my man Jarvis at work. Thanks, J.” he said with a grin. “You’re welcome, Sir.” came the response. He wasn’t sure Stark ever said thank you without being prompted. So he went out of his way to do it. Even though Tony totally appreciated his tech.

“Okay, first question.. are you in a relationship? Okay, jumping right for it. I like that. Apparently like four thousand other people wanted to know. Well, not right now, no. But I’d like to be.” he said with a grin and a wink. “No, but seriously. If I find you cute and shit and your personality rocks,” he gave a thumbs up, “I’m free.” he paused, brow furrowing at the next question. “Fuck, marry, kill: Thor, Steve, Tony.” he frowned. “I would fuck every single one of them. I wouldn’t marry any of them, though. I eat about as much as Thor and Steve, so we’d be running out of food constantly, so that is not an ideal marriage. We’d go broke with eating all the food. and Tony is… Tony is no for a different reason entirely. Like, he’s on a level, but he’s not on that level. Honestly, I think Pepper would marry Tony first. Or maybe Cap if he is or is not into it with Nat. I don’t know. Nat does her own thing. Most of the time. I get hella protective over her. Have you seen Nat? She doesn’t need anyone to protect her but I’m sure as shit not gonna stand on the sideline when she might need some backup. But yeah, I’d fuck all of them without hesitating. Have you seen these guys? It’s so unfair. You can’t turn a corner without seeing abs or Cap’s moobs straining a shirt.” he waved for the next question.

“Do you masturba- oh my god. Yes. I’m pretty sure almost everyone does.” he sounded almost disappointed that was even a question. “They say your O face is what you look like when you’re trying not to sneeze. What’s yours look like?” he paused. “Wow. Going straight for it. Bold. I like it.” he hummed. “I don’t know. I’ve never watched myself sneeze. It feels different, between masturbating and sneezing. You can tell the face is different. I mean, I would give a demonstration but there are kiddies on this site. Plus it’s not the same every single time. Different partners or different pleasure and shit like that.” he stretched a little. “You’re gay.” he read aloud, rolling his eyes. “That isn’t even a question. But no, I’m not gay. Not straight either, before all you guys out there give me some disappointed look.” he shrugged. “I haven’t tried hiding it. I just haven’t announced it to the universe or anything. Everyone here knows, Tony and them. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m open. Pan. Lot more open now than I used to be. Which isn’t saying much, but it still is, though.” he shrugged.

“Let’s see… ‘I don't know if its been asked but Clint what are your favorite movies? Music? Breakfast food? lunch? dinner? sorry if that's too many at once’. No, no, no, little starlet, it’s okay. Let’s see, when it comes to movies, I am a man child. Have you ever seen the muppet movie? I have this stuffed Kermit from when I was a kid. I was all up in the Muppets. My foster mom made me a Kermit costume for Halloween one year, I knew all the songs. My foster mom was great. She understood my obsession. I still love it. I also like, um, Disney, lot of Disney- Disney’s Robin Hood.” he winked and grinned. “Also, a lot of classics. Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, um, oh, The Labyrinth, because David Bowie’s crotch bulge makes that movie. And the babe song. Um… I don’t know. I like a lot of movies. The Muppet Movie is probably my all time favorite. Me and Nat learned the dance from Dirty Dancing if that counts for anything. Oh, oh! The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Totally makes me cry. It’s beautiful. Watch it I’m rambling about movies, oh man. Music, though. Uh… I listen to pretty much anything. I tend to take out my aids a lot more, since I’m getting comfortable in the tower and stuff, so I’d say if it’s got good bass, I’ve probably listened to it.” he paused a minute. “Well, I mean, Tony’s trying to get me to actually get an actual drivers license, and I mean, I can drive, so I don’t see the point. I mean, little carnie me didn’t have time, then I got sucked into a crime ring, now I’m an Avenger, and he thinks I’m really racking up driving points?” he asked.

“Hours.” Natasha corrected as she swooped into frame for half a second to snatch a pillow. “This is mine.” she said calmly, bopping him on the head and exiting with it. Clint frowned, stuck his tongue out at her back. “You totally ruined my take.” he called after her. “They like me.” she called back. Clint rolled his eyes. “You see what I have to put up with in this tower? Absolutely no respect for my vlog, and then Nat’s also coming in to steal back her pillow. Rude. It’s comfy.” he clearly wasn’t seriously upset, going back to the questions. “Breakfast fo- pancakes. Oh man, pancakes. Steve makes the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my life. He does banana, or chocolate chip, or blueberry, and he can even do strawberry ones… he’s the pancake guru. But crepes, though. Crepes are like little thin pancakes, though, so I’m on the same track. With a little bit of bacon on the side, and like a whole other plate dedicated to hash browns. Yes. Breakfast.” he hummed. “J, remind me to ask Steve to make pancakes tomorrow. Lunch, though. Umm… let’s see… it kind of depends. I mean, I like stopping at the little stands on the corners and stuff to get food because it’s cheap and quick and sometimes the hot dog guy recognizes me. It’s kind of funny, cool. Dinner… pizza. No doubt. Love me some good pizza. I had this one pizza from a little shop in Illinois, once. Oh, man, their pizza. The sauce was great, the cheese was excessive and melty, and their breadsticks and nachos? I might have to drag the Avengers out sometime, see if it’s still there. Um… if I remember where it was at.. oops.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, AlternianIdiot- did I say that right?- how were those for answers?” he gave a little thumbs up.

“Okay… Are you and Natasha dating?” he snorted. “No. No, not now.” he answered, shaking his head. “Are you serious? I just said in the last video we aren’t dating.” he rolled his eyes, leaning back. “I mean, we hang out a lot, and there used to be this mutual.. thing, but we moved on. Decided platonic was our thing for the time being. I’m not gonna make her date me or something and then have everything after that be awkward. Besides, it could fuck with our ops and I really don’t think Coulson wants to have to write, ‘were fighting over what color to paint the living room instead of scoping’ on paperwork. Because we go back and forth a lot. It’s funny, kind of, apparently.” he shrugged again. “Like, I’m not opposed to the idea, but if she’s not for it, she can do her own thing, I’ll do my own thing. It’s cool.”

“Take off your shirt.” he blinked a little, then shrugged. “Don’t act all shocked or anything.” he said as he tugged up the hem, neatly folding his shirt and setting it aside. “Work’s a bitch, huh?” he asked, glancing down at the scars littering his body. “A lot of them are pretty light, you know, healed well. And Bruce has this sweet remedy, helped them fade some more. Bruce is cool. He’s like the tower doc, which is weird, but honestly, I’d rather he be doing my physicals than a stranger. Don’t know why, just trust him. Plus, the big guy likes me, and I like the big guy. Mutual respect means we get to hang out a lot. You know what else is me and Bruce are part of the Sober Club. I mean, Steve is, too, but he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. Serum, y’know? We been trying to get Thor to give him some Asgardian ale or something, maybe that’ll whoop his ass. But yeah. Don’t know where I was going with all of that.”

He frowned, eyes scanning. “I’d like to know who is your favorite avenger and what videogames do you all play in your free time.” Clint hummed. “Well, I mean, I can’t really choose a favorite. I like them all, in their own respective ways. Like Nat, I know her the most, and I trust her, so I mean, she’s automatically at the top. I’d have to say either Cap or Bruce, though. Bruce is pretty chill, he makes me herbal tea-” he paused, eyes on the door. “You left your phone in the freezer. Again. I know I said this is practically indestructible but that doesn’t mean you should forget it in the ice cream. Now I have to get new butter pecan. Also, I should totally be your favorite because I’m lovable and make you sweet ass arrows.” Tony tossed him his phone, looking damp and clean. “I ran it under some water for you. You’re welcome. Favorite. Me. Totally.” Tony ducked out, and Clint hummed. “Tony is pretty cool. I don’t know. I can’t really choose a favorite. They all have their own quirks and things that make them likeable. So yeah. Although, I was so big on Captain America when i was a little guy. Just. Kermit, Captain America. All I needed in life. I looked up to him a lot. Cause he stood up for the little guys. I was recovering from a rough spot, needed someone to kind of… latch onto, I guess. So yeah. He.. yeah. Maybe he counts as my favorite, then.” he thought a minute, scrolling through his phone to check notifications. “I lost this like, three days ago.” he admitted, waving the phone a little. “Anyway, videogames. We play a lot of multiplayers, so that everyone has a chance to play. Umm… a lot of Mario Kart. A lot of Super Smash Bros. Melee. Oh, man. do not let Steve’s aww-shucks attitude sway you. He is a rage master. I should totally show you guys sometime. The press would eat it up. He’s not a sweet little boy. I mean, he was a soldier. If he managed to slip by squeaky clean I’d be concerned. He is so not an angel, though. You should see him on Rainbow Road. It's terrifying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up longer than expected but I'm assuming that's a good thing xD Thanks for reading!


	7. Scare-Cam ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint scares (most of) the Avengers and gets a scare back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are typically harmless pranks, just a little jarring/shocking (hence the one on the receiving end ending up scared)

Clint came into view immediately, smiling and looking casual as he tipped his phone just enough so the front facing camera could capture Steve driving as well. "-saying that maybe you ought to take up Stark's offer. I'm not saying I won't drive with you, he just happens to be, surprisingly, the only one who abides by the traffic rules aside from Bruce. And I don't think you'd want Bruce in the passenger seat because you don't like giving Bruce unnecessary stress, which, honestly, is more consideration than you show to the rest of us-" Clint sank down in the seat a little, trying so, _so_ hard not to roll his eyes. "I tell you to merge onto the highway and we nearly get flattened by a U-Haul." there they went; Clint's eyes, rolling into oblivion. He didn't answer, though. It was like getting a scolding from a dad or something. Embarrassing. The video skipped to maybe ten minutes later, when they were both sitting in heavy silence, not looking at each other. Clint's smile came back- innocent, while his eyes flicked between the phone and Steve. He opened his mouth and let out the most high pitched, blood-curdling scream he'd ever hear himself make. Steve jumped hard, eyes wide as he swatted in Clint's general direction. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he wasn't looking mad at Clint so much as mad he'd been scared, while Clint dissolved into near-giggles, squeezing closer to the door to avoid Steve swatting at him. "You are _so_ off target practice for a week!" that only made him laugh harder, and Steve joined him, albeit a little less hysterically crying from laughter, more chuckling at his own dadly humor or something.

Whatever.

And Clint did get locked out of target practed, but only for a weekend. Steve finally broke and let him back in after listening to three straight hours of varying whining tones of, "But _daaaaaaad_!"

Totally worth it.

*******************************************************

Tony was next, obviously, in this massive scare-cam scheme. The problem was, thinking of a good scare without killing the guy or sending him into a panic attack or something. Clint could be a dick but he wasn't mean like that, not to friends. He finally decided on a little harmless noise, and spent approximately four hours rigging Tony's desk chair. He kept the process in the video, sped up, ending with a mock salute and Clint scurrying into the vent, leaving his camera set up hidden behind a ficus Pepper threatened to kick Tony down his own corporate ladder if he moved. Something about the zen, or maybe it was something Bruce taught her, or maybe she just liked that particular plant in that particular spot. Who knew? Tony came in half an hour after Clint disappeared, tossing a file on his desk and puttering around, making coffee, taking his sweet ass time adding a dash of sugar and stirring, sipping the near-black gunk. Disgusting. Who in their right mind drank coffee black like that? Clint almost shuddered at the idea. He set down his mug on the desk, sifting through the file a minute. Finally, finally he sat down. When he did, the blast of an air horn made him leap right back up as he cried out, then threw his pencil holder at the vent as Clint popped out, glowering. "You fucking asshole!" he snapped, before he flipped his chair over. "That's an impressive rigging but that doesn't make me any less mad at you."

Oh, it did. Tony demanded he show him exactly how he rigged it up, and didn't even have Jarvis strobing the lights at four in the morning as revenge.

*******************************************************

Now Thor, he didn't scare easily. Not at all. He was either in full on warrior mode or he was a sweet puppy with a booming voice. There wasn't an in between. It took planning. Then more planning. Finally it took a lot of planning but no actual results, and Clint kind of wanted to scream. So, finally, he had the camera on night vision mode and set it silently on Thor's dresser, tugging a horrific mask over his face and giving the camera a thumbs up before grabbing a pot and producing a lighter from his pocket. He dipped the lighter into the pot, setting it on the pillows. He nudged Thor, hard, and waited for him to start shifting before he let out a clown like, bonechilling laugh, just before the firecrackers went off.

Thor jerked hard, awake in seconds, landing on the floor with a loud thud and his arm flung out. "Wait wait wait it's me holy shit it's me oh my god are you okay? Holy shit." Clint yanked the mask off as Thor went to swing Mjolnir at him- boy would _that_ have made for a prank gone wrong. "Little Hawk? Why are you awake so late?" Of course he would go immediate puppy mode. Lovable asshole.

*******************************************************

The camera jiggled just a little as Clint slid it back a little further behind the TV. He stood up straight finally, tugging down his mask. Full Freddie Krueger garb, fake claws and all. It was going to be great. He slipped into the closet and waited. It didn't take long. Natasha entered with a bowl of cereal, setting it on the table beside the couch as she hunted for the remote. He let out a horrendously evil laugh as he popped out and came running for her. The rest almost seemed like slow motion. She turned, fist already coming out. It connected with his face, sent him down on the floor on his back. Natasha just backed up, raising her hands in surrender. "Owwww...."

In hindsight, not his best idea. He concluded this about fifteen minutes later, showing the camera his swollen eye and bruising cheekbone.

"How about I don't fuck with her again because it always ends up like this and I never learn..." he murmured, mostly to himself, prodding his newcoming bruises.

*******************************************************

Clint easily saved the easiest for last. He sprawled out by the pool, his one eye still shiny and black, casually acting like he was taking selfies with Bruce in the background, watching him read calmly. He wondered if the Other Guy would come out over this. He stretched, completely relaxed, before letting out a loud yell. "Jesus-!" Tony gasped from the background, footsteps faltering in the shot before he ducked down enough to show he was clutching at his chest, lifting a middle finger to the camera. Bruce turned a page, looking up. "Did you need something?" he asked. Clint just blinked for about ten minutes straight.

The next time, Clint was sitting in Bruce's lab, eyes narrowed at the camera. "How come you're so zen? That's pretty much rude. No one should be this chill all the time, holy shit. I would explode. Can't do it." Bruce was hunched over a microscope, though he sat back to look at him. "I've had plenty of practice at being.. 'zen'." he answered, giving his attention back to the microscope. Clint shifted, jerking an air horn out from under the table as he pressed the button. Bruce gave a reflexive jerk at the noise level, but just looked over his glasses as Clint. "Oh, please. I've been here with Tony for the better half of- what, two years, now? Surely you knew you had to do more than that to scare me." it was the most 'bitch please' phrase Clint had ever heard Bruce say. He picked up the camera and left.

*******************************************************

The montage goes viral pretty quick. But maybe an hour later, a new video goes viral. It's nearly an hour of footage from Jarvis, of Clint being scared by simple things, like not expecting someone in the doorway or someone giving a sudden shout.

Tony's favorite is at approximately 8:41 in the video, when Clint is reaching for the door with a free hand while the other balances a mixing bowl filled with cereal. He throws it over himself when the door opens. Fucking classic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And also thanks to everyone that left comments and video suggestions. I totally need those for when I run out of my pre-written ones (oooops)


	8. Bake like a Hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers bake a cake!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is silly and ridiculous and I have no regrets (also, Dumm-E!)

Clint managed to shift around the camera a little, finally fixing it. "There. Tony lent me Dumm-E. Said he made a mess downstairs and so he was going to be my tripod." Dumm-E whirred a bit sadly, and the camera ducked, staring at the floor. "Hey, hey, it's okay, buddy. I still think he totally deserved that smoothie to the face." the camera slowly panned back up to Clint, revealing that he was actually sitting on the counter, an array of bowls in front of him as he set to work dumping some of the ingredients in, hiding the labels as he did. "We do _not_ need brand names squeaking their way in here, huh?" he grinned a little. "So, as you guys've probably already figured out, we're gonna do some baking. I actually like baking, sometimes, but I usually make, like, actual food. Like, chili and stuff. This lady, she was the cook at the cirque, and she showed me some stuff." Bruce cut into frame, hip checking Clint's swinging leg, arms loaded with science equipment. "Off of the counter." he said calmly, lining up the beakers, flasks, test tubes. "Why did you need this?" he asked as he kept unloading everything. "I'm making food." Bruce immediately began to put everything back in his arms. "This is for science, not for food. I'm not even sure you could ever put something edible in these, despite how clean they're kept. It's dangerous, you know this." Clint pouted. "Well, yeah. But, I mean, it's cooler to measure with science stuff." he answered. "And you're gonna make food with me." Bruce paused. "I'll take these to the lab and get Tony." Clint beamed. "Orrrr you could put them somewhere out of the way 'cause I already called everyone and they should be here in... eight." Bruce blinked. "Eight what?" Minutes? Seconds?

Dumm-E whirred, wheeling around the kitchen with the camera, nearly dropping it to chase after Tony in excitement as he appeared in the doorway. "No! _no_! You are still totally on my list! Don't look like that, you know what you did." Dumm-E backed off with a sad whir. "You are so not ruining my cooking show vlog by grounding your kid." Clint called from the counter, even as Bruce nudged him again, trying to wipe away the mess he'd created. And they hadn't even started yet. "Stark has no children." Thor answered as he entered the kitchen and immediately helped himself to a juice pouch from the fridge. "Why have they been covered?" he asked, inspecting the pouch he'd grabbed. They'd all been wrapped in duct tape, with 'JUICE' written on in permanent marker. "Because we like juice and I figured we might as well do the undercover cooking show thing where they don't show labels. Except Stark, 'cause it's his house- hey!" Clint scowled as Steve physically _lifted_ him and set him on the floor, grinning to Bruce before he started to help clean. "Rude." Clint muttered, leaning against the counter. "We're waiting on Nat." he then explained to the camera. Steve glanced at him. "Well, you said it was a baking video. Why don't you start preheating the oven?" he asked. Clint frowned, decided it made sense, and nodded, reaching for the oven. Dumm-E scooted backwards as the oven door crashed open and Clint absolutely _screamed_ , falling to the floor with a missed grab to the island in the kitchen. Natasha slipped out of the oven, tossing a rag at Steve with a grin. "It's clean." she said casually, and Steve absolutely cracked up, while Clint laid on the floor, giving a pitiful groan for a good ten seconds before he started to compose himself. Tony was practically on the floor, clutching his side as he wheezed. "You're a goddamn menace... I'm gonna die before I reach my golden years, thanks to you. I hope you're happy. And Cap, you're an enabler. You're totally feeding the fire." he breathed, sitting up. "Bruce, god, check my heart rate. Oh my god."

Scare tactic aside, Clint calmed his breathing a minute as he leaned against the island, glowering at the still-wheezing Tony. "We're gonna... fuck. We- fuck, Tony, shut _up_ , holy shit- I found this recipe, called like- I don't know. It says Charlotte Royale, but it also says jelly roll cake. I don't know. I've never made anything like it- no!" Steve plucked a jar down from the fridge, shaking it at Clint. "Six dollars." he said simply. "I just almost died and you want me to participate in the swear jar that we made you _as a joke_ , I might add. I'm not participating. I'm an adult." Steve chuckled, placing the jar back on top of the fridge. "Hello, An Adult. I'm Steve. And you owe six dollars to the swear jar." Clint froze, narrowed his eyes at Steve before he stuck out his tongue and turned back to the ingredients, yanking a paper from his pocket and smoothing it out on the island. "Okay, I'm not touching the oven again, Tony, preheat to a hundred and seventy-five degrees Celsius. I don't know what that transfers to.." he scanned the recipe, while both Bruce and Tony piped up, "Three hundred forty-seven." Clint rolled his eyes. "Nerds. What the hell is a swiss roll tin?" Jarvis hummed to life, placing a 3D hologram model in front of him. "Oh. A cookie sheet, then. Thanks, J." he rummaged around the cabinets, reaching to the back and sending three plastic containers and a metal mixing bowl to the ground for his trouble. "Okay. That's gonna be Steve's job, since he decided he's gonna be Mister Mom today, thanks for volunteering-" Steve almost rolled his eyes, collecting the spilled objects. "Thor, you get to do the honor of putting this parchment paper in the bottom of this cookie sheet, except make sure it gets up on the sides, too, for when it does its rising thing or whatever." Clint grinned at the camera. "This is why the pros work alone. Too many people to keep track of. not enough good jobs."

Clint glanced at the sheet again. "Okay, I need four eggs from that carton on the counter, aaaaand... a bowl, mixing bowl. Thanks, Steve." he said, plucking the bowl he was about to put away from his grasp. "Eggs..." he grabbed them, grinning again. "Wanna see something cool?" The other five collectively gave either a sigh or soft groan, and Clint frowned. "I'm showcasing my many talents for the good of the audience." he insisted, before he tossed two up and started juggling them, eyes on the eggs. They actually looked vaguely interested now, instead of 'not another Brilliant Barton Idea'. He did pretty well- for about ten seconds. Then two eggs hit. At the cracking, he jerked his hands back- what he usually did when something awful sounding happened around the tower and it was kind of his fault. There was the sound of two more eggs smashing on the floor, and he just stared at it for a minute, mouth opening and closing for a few seconds before he started worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "... Shit." he muttered. "Seven." Steve answered. Clint mimicked him snarkily, taking a wad of paper towels and laying them over the mess. "There. Problem solved. Cleanup later. Now, I need four more eggs."

Natasha was the one who stopped him after he separated eggs, combined ingredients, and slipped the bowl into the mixer, turning it on high. She switched it to a lower setting as powdered sugar soared out of the bowl and coated them in a light dusting. "Why bother settling for adoption when I have a child right here-" she muttered, though not in a mean tone. Clint huffed. "I am a forty-five year old man and we used to have relations. That's pretty twisted." Natasha just ruffled his hair, sending up a tiny cloud of powdered sugar. Clint went to work combining ingredients in a new bowl. "This is a complex recipe. You know what, it's teamwork time. Nat, Steve, Thor, you're on duty with the filling part, because that looks complex and I'm already starting on the cake. Tony, Bruce, and I will finish this up. That way, the cake gets done faster." he nodded, grinning as though he'd made the perfect plan.

It was all of five minutes before something went clattering to the ground. Dumm-E didn't turn, but there was a hushed swear followed by Clint saying, "That's a dollar, Gramps." Tony smirked; he'd shaped the sass well. Bruce seemed to be the only one making any progress on the cake team, actually trying to follow the recipe to a T, while Clint got a little flour in his palm and slapped Tony with it as soon as the recipe- and Tony- called for flour. He grinned as Tony stumbled away from any actual food to let out a sneeze. "Asshole." he muttered, slinking back into frame and slamming an egg down on top of Clint's head. Bruce hunched a little between the two, ducking down a bit to avoid their impromptu ingredient fight, peering at the recipe intently while they giggled like children, grabbing ingredients and essentially starting a two man food fight. All was well until Steve got a glob of whipped cream to the side of the head, courtesy of Tony taking advantage of being closest to the fridge. Dumm-E managed to catch Steve standing there, whipped cream sliding off of his face and landing with a splat on the floor, just in the edge of the frame, before both of them had Cap's hands smearing jam on their faces. "I should think that's enough of that." Bruce mused as Steve went to the sink to wash off. "Children." Natasha answered, while Thor laughed heartily at the sight of them, blinking in shock and covered in jam. Clint licked his lips, humming. "Love jam." he said before he and Tony were being nudged to the sink by Thor, under the direction of Steve. "Honestly, if I saw you two offering food, I wouldn't take it. I really wouldn't- Clint no-" he started as Clint just shoved his face into the sink, washing intensely. Whatever. Leave him to it, then.

Clint was scrubbing himself dry with a wad of paper towels as Bruce folded the cake batter, glancing over at him before he showed that hint of a smile that meant, to everybody else, that Bruce Banner was actually having a good time. Clint grinned back, grabbing for the cookie sheet and setting it down. "So then we bake the cake, and once the jelly stuff in the middle is done, we can put it together, right?" he asked, peering over Bruce's shoulder at the recipe. Bruce nodded. "And then it has to chill for four hours. It has to set." he poured the batter into the sheet, making sure it wouldn't overflow. "Twelve minutes." Bruce reminded as Clint swept the sheet away, shooing the trio around the stove so he could put it in. "J, twelve minutes on the timer." Tony looked disgruntled as he came back rubbing vigorously at his head with paper towels, trying to dry off. "Jam to the face. The face, Cap. At least eighty-seven percent of news sources say that's my best feature." Steve raised a brow. "Says who, exactly?" Tony paused. "... Okay, so I made up the percentage. Still."

Dumm-E stuck close to Tony again, now that Steve had apparently been teasingly deemed onto his list, and so he was less prone to scolding Dumm-E. The robot whirred happily when Tony made actual conversation with him as they waited for the cake to bake. Clint thought the little guy totally deserved some respect. He was a cool bot. The actual cake-building part was completely boring, aside from Clint layering the raspberry jam thick in the jelly roll, commenting that he really liked raspberries- confirmed by Tony, who tended to feed him snacks whenever he hung around the lab or workshop. Whenever Clint started being disruptive, he'd just pass food over to keep him occupied, one cookie at a time.

****************************************************************************************************

"Four whole hours I've been waiting to eat this thing." Clint told the camera as Dumm-E followed the group to the kitchen. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed, whipping it out of the fridge and setting it on the table. The recipe itself had showed something slightly pretty and simple. No, the jelly rolls did not show pretty swirls. They showed jam oozing out of it, smeared on the cake parts a bit, the cream mixing with it in some places. It was not entirely pretty. But they also didn't care. Bruce cut it, looking a little pleased. "It doesn't look awful for a first attempt." he encouraged, waiting until everyone had a piece before he took his own. "Delicious!" was Thor's contribution as he grabbed juice pouches from the fridge and handed them around. "I wouldn't mind making it again." Bruce answered, taking a sip of juice before trying another forkful. "This actually is pretty good." Tony agreed, and Steve nodded, fork sticking from his mouth. "If you like raspberry." Natasha added. "I love raspberry. Especially how it makes your mouth tingle." Clint responded, sticking another bite in his mouth. They all paused for a minute. "Tingle?" Tony asked. "Yeah. I love how raspberries make your mouth tingle and get kind of numb." he answered calmly as he took another bite. "Spit it out." Bruce ordered, and Clint's brow furrowed. "Huh?" What the hell was this? "Spit it out. You're having an allergic reaction." he let the food drop onto the plate and Bruce snatched it away, setting it on the counter and grabbing Clint's arm. "Come with me." he half dragged the confused Clint out of the kitchen. Tony blinked a few times. "So apparently Clint's been allergic to raspberries this whole time and I gave them to him at least once a week." he winced a little. "Oops."

****************************************************************************************************

Clint sat on the couch, snuggled up in a blanket and frowning. "So I've been mildly allergic to raspberries my whole life. Never knew that. Fun fact, I guess. I'm fine. I just wanted to ad that I'm fine. Bruce kinda freaked out some. I'm better now, though, 'cause he gave me some medicine and it helped the, ah, reaction, I guess, go down quicker or whatever. That... that was fun I guess. And now he's strictly monitoring my raspberry intake. As in, cut off. So, no more cake for me. It was good, though. I'm gonna try to steal a piece."

"No."

"Dammit, Bruce!"

"That's a dollar in the jar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the cake recipe here: (http://www.foodnetwork.co.uk/recipes/charlotte-royale.html)
> 
> Also, Clint could totally overlook having a mild allergy to raspberries. Some people who have mild allergies think it's perfectly normal to have numbness/tingling, etc.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Mario Kart 7- RAGE!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few of the crew settle down for some Mario Kart 7. There can only be chaos here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in ages! Been busy as all hell and I've had this in my head but finally just settled down to write it (at like 2 am but shhh)! P.S. Clint and Bucky are totally bros
> 
> (Also I've been on a Walking Dead binge and so I've been writing a lot of Daryl stuff that I may/may not publish)

The camera jiggled, settling in Tony’s lap as the sounds of squabbling explained why Clint was currently grabbing for Steve’s controller, held well out of reach, Natasha’s feet curled in Steve’s lap as she only added to the current shouting. Bucky hunched behind Clint’s struggling form, ducking his head while he clutched a controller, perfectly calm and quiet.

“Steve I always pick Luigi or Rosalina that’s not fair man you _know_ my characters!” Clint all but whined, grabbing for the controller again. “You always pick Yoshi! Just pick Yoshi again!” Steve yanked his controller further out of reach as Natasha ducked to avoid being nailed in the face by giant Steve arm.

“I can’t pick Yoshi! Buck wanted to be Yoshi! Just be Mario, it’s the same thing but shorter!” Steve shot back. “Be Rosalina!” Natasha smirked to herself.

“Nat fucking picked her! And I’m not gonna be Shy Guy or some shit! You don’t even like Luigi!” Natasha looked at them. “Actually, I prefer Bowser. It adds to the level of ass whooping when a giant turtle dinosaur plows through your worthless karts.” Tony snickered to himself. “Children.” he muttered, knowing he was the one who started all this by equipping the Tower with, you know, video game systems. “Dude, just let me be Luigi!” Bucky scrunched a little, trying to avoid being elbowed by Clint. “You’re like a five year old.” Natasha observed. “Sit down and pick a character or Tony gets to play and you don’t.” Clint scowled. “Tony’s playing when the loser gets booted!” he insisted.

A metal hand clamped down on Clint’s collar and jerked him into his seat. Bucky looked hard at him. “Pick a damn character, Barton, and quit being a fucking baby about it.” Clint frowned at him. “Oh, like someone who happened to claim Zelda as their Super Smash Brothers character, Barnes?” Bucky scowled back. “That’s different. Zelda is a masterpiece and as Sheik she whoops ass.” he answered simply. Steve had scrolled through his characters, choosing-

“Toad? Toad, really? That’s almost cheating, you’re great with Toad.” Tony added to the conversation. Clint groaned to himself as he chose Luigi.

“Link’s the best.” Clint muttered to Bucky as the race lined up. “How dare you blaspheme in the Tower of Avengers, Barton.” Bucky shot back. They both elbowed each other as they took off. Natasha settled back in the couch, eyes on the screen, while Steve leaned forward a little. “Looking good…” he muttered. “Fuck, Steve’s in second? How the fuck did he manage to land second in the starting lap?” Clint said, mashing buttons. He rammed his kart into Bucky’s, who elbowed him and rammed back, dropping a banana peel as soon as he got it. “Fuck me!” Clint groaned. “This game sucks, I have three super soldiers here fucking karting away..” Tony hid a laugh. “Doing okay? You’re in… tenth… that’s not last at least, right?” Clint managed to lift a middle finger, screeching his way through a shortcut. “Fuck everyone, fuck you guys, fuck this race, Luigi has a mansion and he is gonna ride his vacuum to fuckin’ victory-”

“Nice pep talk.” Natasha contributed, not glancing away from the screen. She gave a half smirk a moment before Steve exploded. “DID YOU JUST FUCKING BLUE SHELL ME?!” Clint jumped a little, like always, and Bucky let him lean against his arm, like always, while Natasha gave the greatest poker face, not even looking at him. “Sure did.” she answered. “OH IT IS ON!” He mashed buttons, leaving trails of bananas that she managed to avoid- the other two weren’t quite as lucky- before getting inked in the face. “Oh, suck my dick, Barnes.” he huffed, leaning forward a little more, tense. “That’s my job.” Natasha answered without hesitation. Clint and Bucky snorted. “Eat this tasty shell, Romanoff.” Clint growled, mashing down the button. Natasha narrowed her eyes, foot ramming over to Clint’s knee. “Eat this tasty dick, Barton.” she shot back, ramming into him before shelling him. “Oh, fuck you!” it was Bucky’s turn to join the Steve Is A Sore Loser Alliance. “Oh, wow, fuck you and your banana trap, Barnes.” Steve grumbled, before he almost threw the controller. “WOW! Did you want to fight today, Romanoff, because this is where relationships end. This is where they come to die. This is the Monopoly of video games and _you are totally- FUCK YOU, BARTON! SUCK MY STAR SPANGLED, TIGHTS-WEARING DICK!_ ”

Steve received two blue shells in a row, courtesy of the SHIELD assassin duo. “Wow, Stevie, language.” came three varying responses from the enemies, while the camera shook with Tony’s silent laughter. “Romanoff, you are sleeping on the fucking couch toni- _hell_ yes! SHELLED!” he called, racing past Natasha/Rosalina. Natasha narrowed her eyes. Clint and Bucky were mostly fighting over who would come in last at this point, until Clint managed to sweep into the shortcut and Bucky didn’t. “Shit.” he muttered. “Why is the Honey Queen attacking me?! Get the fuck out of here!” Clint elbowed Bucky as he used this to his advantage. Clint kicked him in the leg, nudged his arm as hard as he could manage. “You cheat.” Bucky said, ramming him back. “So do you! This is a battle to the end, my friend, and it is not to be played fairly. Shit-!” Clint deflated as he was last of the four, just barely. “Shit!” Steve slammed his controller onto the coffee table as Natasha smirked.

“And that, boys, is how it’s done.” she said simply, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what else you guys would like to read in future chapters! Also thank you to everyone leaving kudos I did not expect this to be popular but hey!!


	10. Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers execute a perfect mission.

The camera jiggled around, picking up whispers of the group as they moved down the hall. “How come you think he didn’t tell us?” Tony asked. “The hawk is one to keep to himself.” Thor answered, while Natasha scoffed. “He doesn’t care.” she answered. Tony scoffed back. “I had to break through three firewalls and a very irritating code, as well as four separate levels of security to find it. Trust me, he cares.” Tony whipped the camera around to settle on frizzy haired, fuzzy robe clad Natasha. “Just because you don’t care about it doesn’t mean he doesn’t.” She shoved at the camera. “Don’t point that at me. There’s a difference between not caring and not remembering. I’m telling you, he doesn’t care.” she answered. “We’ll see about that.” Tony responded, even though he had to be totally right, there was no was someone like Clint just wouldn’t care.

Tony opened the door, let the group file in. Bruce and Steve were the only one exchanging looks, silently wondering if this was really something that needed a debate and elaborate plan. “Surprise, birdbrain!” Tony called. Clint stayed peacefully sleeping, half wrapped around Bucky as he jerked a little, squinting at them. “What the fuck?” he breathed, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry. Forgot it was your turn. See,” Tony turned the camera to film himself talking, “our little birdy is a cuddler, and usually if someone stays with him at night he doesn’t have, y’know, bad dreams, trouble sleeping. He has one of the worst cases of sleeplessness I’ve ever seen for someone who can nap sitting up with his eyes open. Which can be really unsettling.” Bruce smirked. “He learned on purpose. And it’s not napping. It’s meditating. He’s usually fluttering around whenever I’m meditating so I taught him. Not very good at it usually. He fidgets too much for my liking.” Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s still a form of rest, and it’s creepy at two am when I go to get some OJ and he’s just there. _Staring_.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Mind telling me why you’re in here at the asscrack of dawn?” he asked. Tony pouted, flipped the camera back around. “You guys don’t sleep naked, right? He has a tendency. I don’t want the Hawk cock on camera for the entire internet to see, you know?” Bucky just stared at him, unamused. “Okay, fine. Jarvis, bed alarm. This is so cool, by the way. Because he’s deaf, and he’s not really for sleeping with his hearing aids in-” Bruce nudged him. “Do you really think he wants everyone to know how his bed works?” Tony just made a shushing noise. “They already know he sucks at Mario Kart and sleeps in blanket nests and they probably also know how grumpy he gets when he's cold. An alarm isn’t going to be the end of his world. He thinks it’s cool. Aaannd..”

The bed gave a buzzing sort of noise, and Clint jerked a little bit. Bucky jumped a little, not exactly expecting the mattress to shake (Clint never set alarms.). He shifted, sat up a little, rubbing at his eyes. “‘s’it a mission..?” he asked groggily, sitting up the rest of the way. He grabbed for his hearing aids, looking half asleep and really like he just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep as the bed stopped vibrating. “SURPRISE, BIRDY!” Tony exclaimed again. “What?” he blinked a few times, looking confused, disgruntled, and sleepy. “It’s your birthday! So we have some red velvet pancakes downstairs, and since I know you’re tired you have a fresh pumpkin spice latte waiting for you downstairs, since we all know you are a seventeen year old girl at heart.” Bruce spoke up, “Don’t let him fool you. He went to Starbucks.” Tony pouted. “Alright, I went to Starbucks. But Steve made the pancakes and Nat found some candles and it’s not cake but you like breakfast food a lot.”

Clint blinked a few times, looking like he was wondering if he’d actually heard right. “My birthday?” the group shuffled a little closer. “Yeah, your birthday! Come on, get some pants on or something, and we’ll go down and do all the dumb cliche birthday stuff like singing to you for a full awkward-smile involved minute, and opening presents, and having a Clint Barton day where we basically go wherever you wanna go, do what you wanna do kind of celebration. Because it’s your birthday. Today. The day of birth. Your birth, specifically. Today. When you were born. The day you were expelled into the world.” Clint blinked again.

“Okay, first off, please don’t say ‘expelled into the world again’. Am I still asleep or something? My hearing aids not working? You said we’re celebrating?” The group was silent. “That’s what he said, yeah.” Bruce answered. “Did you think we wouldn’t or something?” Steve added. “Of course he didn’t, you weren’t supposed to just know.” Natasha answered. “Natasha is right. He did not know of our knowledge.” Thor pointed out. “But I wanted it to be a surprise!” Tony insisted. Clint looked between them, as did Bucky- unable to go to sleep with six people chattering in the room. “Um. I didn’t… I’ve never really… celebrated my birthday. I mean, a couple times, when I was little, my foster parents would get a cake, but, like…” he trailed off with a shrug.

The group was silent once more. “Well, we’re celebrating now. It’ll be just like SHIELD, but without the Thai.” Natasha spoke first. “Unless you want Thai for dinner.” Tony added. “But come on! Get dressed, it’s like Christmas but with age! Come on, you have presents and food waiting for you!” he sounded like a kid in a candy shop who was just given a thousand dollars to get whatever he wanted. Which Tony was known to occasionally do, nice as he was. “Presents? You guys got me presents?” he asked, sounding perfectly in awe that this could be happening. “Can’t have a birthday without a little something special.” Bucky finally contributed to the conversation, ruffling his already messy hair. Clint looked at Bucky, then back at the group. “You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Quit being all bashful and sleepy and cute, man, let's go! We wanna see you open all the awesome shit! Hawksome? … not so good? Okay. Come on!” Tony urged, and Clint finally started grinning a little, before his face lit up like a christmas tree. “Okay.” he said finally, clambering out of bed.

“Operation: Surprise, successful. Avengers out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to do something for Hawkeye's birthday (because I am lame) and so here it is! Thanks for reading, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably not going to get incredibly popular but feel free to suggest video ideas. If I feel it's dragging I'll probably just end it, though.


End file.
